


A Bouquet of Daffodils (Or Shotgun Shells)

by GhostJ



Category: Samurai Sentai Shinkenger
Genre: Adorable, Blink and you'll miss it, Everyone Thinks Takeru Having Feelings is Hilarious, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Light on Pairings, Surprise guest - Freeform, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 20:55:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2787464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostJ/pseuds/GhostJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It would have never occurred to Takeru that the most terrifying part of being the 19th head of Shiba wasn’t his likely death, or the deaths of his friends, at the hands of Doukoku, but rather the fact that the 18th was alive and kicking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Foreground

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mara/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide!!  
> OMG talk about an intimidating match! I love your stuff!! So... I hope you like this little ficlet and have a wonderful holiday. I will admit I've been looking for an excuse to write adorable things for Shinkenger, so thanks for the awesome prompts!
> 
> If you like it, also keep my lovely beta [redacted] in mind :D She totally made sure I didn't embarrass myself.

Takeru sighed a little under his breath and fought the urge to drop his face into his hands. Loyalty and friendship aside, he really needed to find a restaurant that would serve him alcohol on days like this.

“I can’t believe that you didn’t get her anything!” Mako chided as she snagged a piece of ginger off his plate.

The two friends were sitting at Gold Sushi’s cart, snacking on whatever creations Genta was currently testing out and enjoying the late spring sunshine along with, in Mako’s case, Takeru’s discomfiture. In the year since the successful defeat of the Gedoushu most of Takeru’s samurai had ventured away, only to return to live around the Shiba compound, which was rather comforting for the communities in the area. For Takeru and Kaoru, too, since it made mobilising for whichever world-ending summer crisis was planned rather efficient.

“You do realise that she isn’t actually my mother?” Takeru said. He might have whined just a little, but it seemed ridiculous that he needed to remind people of this fact as frequently as he did considering their relative ages. But then again, he was the one who had asked for Mako’s assistance in this rather delicate matter and he should have long since learned not to rely on her sympathy, her discretion yes, but never her sympathy.

“But Take-chan…” Genta interrupted, making an abortive gesture from behind the counter, which Ika-chan seconded with a plaintive squeak.

“If blood was what mattered, we’d have all been killed by the Gedoushu.” Mako agreed. “I understand that I can never understand what you are going through Takeru, _but_ you wouldn’t have called me about it if you hadn’t felt like you should have bought her something, or _wanted_ to buy her something.” She picked up her tea and swirled it around before sipping it. “ _But_ you are the only one who can make this choice and really, what’s in a name?”

“I had a mother,” Takeru said. “I think she smelled like sakura and sword polish.”

“And no one, least of all Kaoru-dono, is asking you to pretend otherwise.” Mako replied drily, but gently. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting though, and I think you do, my Lord. But I’ve long since given up trying to stop you from judging yourself for being human and wanting to do _emotional_ things.”

“I am not making her a macaroni painting.” Takeru ground out in a tone that brokered no argument.

Mako blinked, nonplussed, and looked questioningly Genta who was innocently busying himself with pouring them more tea. Easy enough to see where that suggestion had come from.

“Oh!” Mako said excitedly coming to a realisation. “What about a cake? Kotoha and I could help-“

“NO!!” Came the cry in unison from Genta, Takeru and, was that Ryunnoske? Takeru turned around in his seat and, sure enough, there was Ryuunoske, dangling from a low hanging branch where he’d obviously been sitting to eavesdrop, or, following his logic, likely preparing to assist his Lord in all his endeavours.

Takeru considered that it wasn’t too surprising to see his one-time second there. Ryuunosuke’s return to the stage had been short-lived after all, with him claiming his co-workers too dramatic, and he mostly spent his days running the local daycare facility with, or rather, for Mako. Perhaps equally unsurprising, although no less annoying, was the hand that reached from further within the tree’s bough to push Ryuunosuke off his perch, leading him to land in a heap on the ground. Takeru sighed loudly, resignation overcoming his manners, even time couldn’t change the fact that he couldn’t trust anyone at all to mind their own business.

“You might as well come over now,” he called out, gesturing to the, now suspiciously, empty seats alongside Genta’s cart. Not that he really thought either Ryunnosuke or Chiaki would have much to add to the conversation, but it was better to distract them from their current spat and the inevitable property damage sooner than later.

“What about cookies?” Kotoha asked, wringing her hands nervously as she came out from behind the large, and new, Gold Sushi sign. Takeru glared at Genta, who was obviously unsurprised to see the rest of the team, judging by the plates of prepared sushi he was pulling out.

“Cookies?” Takeru echoed, looking away to gesture Kotoha to the empty seat on his left. At least he could trust Kotoha not to pick a fight halfway through dinner, or have a panic attack at the salmon sushi on his plate.

“A cake might be a little much,” Kotoha continued, sliding into the seat.

“And you don’t want to do chocolates,” Chiaki agreed as he and Ryuunosuke made their way over, both men slightly mussed from settling whatever scuffle they’d had at the base of the tree. “She’s your mom after all, not your girl-“

“Cookies do sound like an elegant solution, my Lord.” Ryunnosuke agreed, elbowing Chiaki in the side to cut him off and speaking over his yelp of pain. “I will endeavor to assist-”

“Take-chan should take care of it himself,” Genta cut in, placing the finished trays at the once empty seats. “Ne?”

Takeru nodded, even if involving the others weren’t a recipe for disaster, she was _his_ mother in the end.

 

* * *

 

“You made me cookies?” Karou said, opening the drawstring of the small, but elaborately embroidered, pouch.

Takeru rather hoped that the detail, and expense, of the pouch made up for the fact that the cookies inside were slightly too crispy and slightly too sweet. Not to mention that likely one or two were at least cracked by his carrying them around for the better part of the day, as he’d tried to get a brief audience with Karou in between her meetings and duties as the head of the household. He’d really never considered how much of the day-to-day running of things had been delegated due to their wartime footing with the Gedoushu, but he was rather glad he didn’t have to take up that particular mantle now.

In the end, he’d exercised his purview as the “young lord” to, as Chiaki would say, ditch his handlers and sneak into Karou’s private audience chamber where he’d waited for her following another round of closed door meetings. He guessed the kuroko or Jii must have warned her, since she’d walked right past him waiting in the doorway to grab her bokken and told a sputtering Tanba in no uncertain terms that she’d be spending the rest of the day with her son, as was proper.

Following their bout, and the application of ice packs to a rather splendid hit that she’d managed to get off of Takeru, they’d settled down on the veranda to have a quiet meal. It hadn’t been easy for either of them, without purpose and adrift following the destruction of Doukoku, but Takeru, now that he knew what to listen for, could catch the undercurrent of affection in her actions and words. After all, she could have rescinded the adoption after the final battle, but instead, as far as tradition and law would allow, she’d all but guaranteed his place as her successor and he didn’t think it was _just_ because it kept Tanba off her back.

“Oh!” Kaoru exclaimed, pulling out a cookie. “It’s a little Rekka Daizanto.” She sounded charmed and Takeru was rather proud at how well it had turned out, if you ignored the uneven edges and rather lurid colour.

“These are marvelous Takeru,” she continued, spilling small disks and shikigami from the pouch onto an empty plate conveniently provided by the kuroko. “Where did you even find an oven?”

“A friend was passing through,” Takeru hedged. “He also provided the recipe, although it called for them to be made after faces…”

“These are perfect Takeru,” Kaoru assured him, happily snapping a disk in half and handing him one side. “Thank you.”

“Thank you too, m-mom?” Takeru stumbled across the unfamiliar endearment, but he couldn’t help smiling at her expression. At least he hoped the slightly pinched look on her face was due to the tease and not the cookie she’d just taken a bite out of.

Kaoru swallowed gamely, brushed off her skirts and reached over to pat him gently on the hand, her smile turning teasing and a little fierce. “Would this friend of yours be interested in ‘passing through’ an omai?”

Takeru actually sputtered at that, and Kaoru’s small grin turned triumphant, although not a hint of her obvious teasing was evident in her voice.

“If I have to attend another trade meeting explaining why you can’t marry that _idiot princess_ …” She sighed dramatically, well dramatically for either of them, and Takeru was suddenly rather glad she’d all but barred him from the recent discussions with their partners. “You may as well know that there has been a lot of pressure for me to make you ‘available’. After all now that the danger of the Gedoushu has past, members of Shiba are quite good catches.”

Her smile was small, but sly, at Takeru’s obvious terror at the idea. “I have, of course, humbly fulfilled _my_ duties and provided the family with an excellent son, but you aren’t getting any younger and both Tanba and Jii have expressed their concerns over your continued lack of partner. I’ve been thinking that it might solve a few problems to have you been seen out and about with a _friend_ , but no one is likely to take any of your samurai seriously at this point and I’m afraid they’d take their roles in scaring off possible applicants far _too_ seriously.”

Takeru nodded along with her reasoning, not quite parsing the true meaning of her request, and then it was too late as she’d obviously taken his shocked behaviour as agreement. Takeru considered that she’d likely have cause to regret the request, but thinking back to what he'd seen that morning, it seemed that this course of action was likely pre-ordained. At least it explained what the other man had been wearing when Takeru had met him at the photo studio.

“Ask them to ‘pass through’ around two tomorrow afternoon, please,” Kaoru finished, politely restraining her laughter at his expression and handing him another cookie. “I’ve been told that shotguns are traditional?”

Takeru blushed furiously for no reason he could think of and bit the head rather viciously off a frosted nanshi renshu in defeat, but otherwise held his tongue. It was Mother’s Day after all.


	2. Background

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsukasa having a soft spot for Shiba's _young lord_ , just means that he won't actually make Takeru beg for his obviously top-notch assistance...  
> At least not over the phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't just leave it there, could I?  
> I mean based on the crossover eps Takeru would need _actual_ pig-tails for Tsukasa to pull any harder on them.  
>  I've tried to make it pretty gen though, so I hope it can be read as both Takeru/Tsukasa (if you like that) or just Tsukasa being the big jerk-face we all love.

“One more time, _my lord_. You want me to-?” The voice drawled from the receiver, absolutely nonchalant for all that Takeru could clearly hear the sounds of battle.

“Lend me your oven.” Takeru almost snapped, but he held himself back, knowing that it was exactly the reaction the other man was trying to create. “Look Tsukasa, I know that I saw one last time I was there-”

“When your servants attacked me in my own home?” Tsukasa interrupted, pointedly ignoring whatever chaos was occurring in the background.

“They aren’t my servants,” Takeru ground out, before smiling slightly. “And I don’t believe the studio is actually _yours_.”

“Touché my lord, touché.” Tsukasa snorted. “Who’s been training you to have a sense of humour?”

“It’s been a quiet few months,” Takeru agreed, trying to school his expression into something that wasn’t a fond, if exasperated, smile. Although he’d met many strange people over the years, and several other Kamen Riders, Decade always stood out for his knack of being absolutely frustratingly charming no matter what the circumstance. “It would be a big help, if I could use it. I don’t know anyone else who-“

“Sorry, sorry, I’m still trying to get over the idea of _you- using- an- oven_ , don’t you have people to do that for you?” Tsukasa continued laughingly, the sounds of blows occasionally punctuating the question. Takeru was fairly certain at one point he also heard someone yelling imperiously at Tsukasa to put down the phone while he was fighting.

Takeru sighed and took a breath to, well not beg, but certainly to say “please” in an endearing tone, when he heard ‘laughing pressure point’ and the deafening roar of Tsukasa’s laughter through the phone.

“Takeru-san?” A much calmer, nicer and distinctly feminine voice came on the line. “It’s Natsumi, I travel with Tsukasa-kun.”

Takeru could hear Tsukasa groaning in the background and his statement of “it’s very nice to speak with you again” may have been slightly more respectful than formality required.

“You are more than welcome to come and use our oven,” Natsumi assured him. “I’ll drop the studio off where it was last time we visited, do you remember the way?” He went to answer, but she carried on without waiting for his response. “Oh! I even have a great recipe Tsukasa-kun can show you!”

“Natsumikan…” Tsukasa seemed to have regained his breath, if not the phone, and Takeru allowed himself a small huff of laughter at how annoyed the other man sounded in the background.

“Well, it’s not as if you weren’t going to ask him over,” Natsumi chided. “I mean you spend _worlds_ whining- Don’t throw the bomb at me!”

Takeru jerked the receiver away from his ear reflexively at the sudden increase in volume and gave it a couple of seconds before tuning in again.

“Lord Shiba? Oi, Takeru.” Tsukasa sounded peeved at the interruption, but rather less than worried about potential explosions.

“Don’t you need to deal with the bomb?” Takeru asked, finding himself more concerned than he’d expected.

“Is the bomb ever actually _real_?” Tsukasa replied. Takeru supposed he had a valid point at that. “Besides, if it is, Yuusuke can deal with it.”

“Please,” Takeru requested solemnly, he’d met Yuusuke after all. “Don’t get blown up before I can use your oven.”

“Hmph.” Tsukasa snorted. “I’ll have to remember that you only put up with me for my ability to bake fantastic cookies.”

“Honestly, Tsukasa!” Takeru guessed that Natsumi had dealt with the maybe-bomb and had returned to reclaim her travelling companion. “You’ll see him in a few hours. Hang up so we can go and rescue Yuusuke before he gets brainwashed… Again!”

“See you shortly, _my Lord_.”

Takeru listened to the call click off and placed the phone back on the stand before grabbing his coat. There was no good reason to put off his escape from the Shiba compound. After all, it likely wouldn’t be too long until the Hikari photo studio dropped in, even if Yuusuke did get brainwashed. Again.


End file.
